


Traveller

by erinsharp98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), angel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinsharp98/pseuds/erinsharp98
Summary: Freya Michaels is catapulted from her home country into an alternate universe where Dean and Sam Winchester are real and not just the television show that Freya know. When she wakes up in a police station she has a lot to answer for, but how much can she really explain.A Fanfiction based around season four of CW's Supernatural.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work and title is a work in progress. I have also posted this story on a couple of other websites in the hopes I will get the maximum views.

Cool air whipped up my hair and clothing tousling it around in a frantic fashion. Where had this wind come from? Just ten seconds ago the weather had been stifling warm and stagnant. However, looking out in front of myself it didn't look as though anything was amiss, the leaves stood still on their branches as they had before.

I couldn't make any reasonable assumption as to why the only affected area made what seemed to be a perfect metre circle around me.

I decided to test the non-visible boundary, stepping forward with hands outstretched. I pressed into the wall that surrounded me. As soon as my hands touched the impossible structure I collapsed in a heap on the floor, crumpling and folding completely as the energy seemed to be drawn out of my body.

There's was only time to notice that the soft green grass that I had been standing on was now hard gravel before I passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Slowly blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I attempted to raise my hands above my head in a yawn but found pain shoot through my muscles which seemed to scream with every millimetre they moved. I had been on longer runs before last night and I had never experienced pain such as this, the next morning. My arms hadn't moved very far when a loud clink echoed throughout the space. I tried again faster this time but to no avail my hands were restrained with what felt like metal hand cuffs, behind my back.

Panic set in. Raising my head, my eyes shot open searching my surroundings again trying to make sense of the restraints. Blinding light stunned me for a second before I could adjust to the room I was in.

There was no making sense of it I was in what looked like an interview room at a police station.

My breath quickened. My eyes darted back and forth searching for something, I didn't know what.

In front of me was a table and a couple of chairs all of which were encapsulated into the 4 grey wash walls, that surrounded me. Everything was grubby. I could tell that at one point everything was once a clean fresh white but now dirt and time had coloured everything in sight in a dull greyness. The room was quiet with only the sound of my rapid breath and the low buzz of the bright light, above my head, to fill in the void.

I couldn't stop the way my eyes darted around the room trying to find something to explain all this. Where was I? Why was I in handcuffs? What was happening?

Taking a deep breath I tried to slow my breathing down to a normal rate but before I was able to, the door to the left of me swung open forcefully.  
Two police officers stepped into the room. The first had a thin folder in his hand who sat down straight away on the chair backwards so he could lean forward resting his arms on the back of the chair staring at me intently while the other gripped a video recorder in its stand and went to the corner to set it down. All the time I sat silently not knowing what to say, what to ask first. A million and one things darting around my brain, not one word was able to push its self through my lips.

It was only when the first officer opened his mouth to speak that I realised that I had been staring at both officers but hadn't really seen them. My eyes shot down to the badge on the first officer, there it was plain to see, sheriff. How could that be? Sheriff? I'm British we don't have sheriffs? What the hell? Where am I?

"Helloo... HEY... I asked you your name" the voice of the first officer regained my attention. I looked up from the badge unable to make my mouth pronounce any sound other than a small barely audible whimper. I shrank back into the uncomfortable metal chair.

"Do you know what happened" his voice got softer this time, if only by a slight amount. Although I had my head down I could feel the intense eyes of the police officers on my face also trying to make sense of me.

I kept my head down as he began talking again. "You were found passed out outside Harry's Bar last night, surrounded by 5 men... only one was still alive when we got to the scene.. he kept repeating that it was you that did this to them that you were the one that was responsible" With my head still down I scrunched my eyebrows together. None of this was making any sense. When was I going to find out what was happening?

"It's your right to be able to stay silent.. but that's not going to help you" the second officer said gruffly in a manner of fact tone. What do I say? I'd just sound crazy if I said anything right. Who'd believe me anyway? I didn't even know what happened?

In what felt like a last-ditch attempt to get me to talk the first officer opened up the file that I'd forgotten he'd brought into the room, to reveal my driver's license, which he passed to me. I took it and held it between my fingers looking at it then back up to his face wondering why this was relevant to anything.

"That's yours? Your names Freya?" He said almost accusingly under a quiet chuckle.

I nodded my head gently to try not to aggravate my screaming muscles "Hmm" I was able to mutter. I let my eyes ask the 'why'.

A small smile reached his lips, which I assumed came from being able to make me at least reply in some form. “Well Freya, we just can't understand why you would make a fake ID with a date of birth which makes you what, 10? Now that just doesn't seem like a smart thing to do, does it?"

Looking at the ID again I confirmed with myself that there wasn't anything wrong about it. The date was right 1 March 1998. I'm 20. I handed the ID back to him.

It just got even more confusing.


	3. Chapter 3

A deep voice cut through the ever-growing tension, "I think we'll take it from here."

In a way, I was grateful for the release from the two officers that kept me prisoner under their watchful accusing stares, however painful I'm sure that police interviews could be a lot worse, depending on who they put in here with me. And I got it, I understood, in any other circumstances it would make sense for me to exclaim and attempt to prove my innocence but how could I explain something that I knew nothing about. I wasn't even awake.

So what was I to do? How could I approach this without being locked up in a mental ward of a hospital, for insanity?

No one would believe me...

"And just who are you, waltzing in here. Badges. Now. I have authority in this station, so I don't know who you thin..."

"FBI. Agent Smith and Smith, no relation... and for the matter of authority, I think you'll find we have authority over this detainee" The deep voice cut the officer off again, a hint of aggravation rising in his tone as he spoke.

I looked up to the familiar voice. 

Where I knew it from I couldn't figure out, not until my eyes met the faces of the two men which were now standing only a couple of feet away from me.

With wide eyes my eyes shot between both the men, "Shit" I whispered under my breath in the realisation that there stood Jensen and Jared. Rather than making sense, this just confused me further. My first thought was that I must obviously be on a hidden camera TV show for fans but seriously there was no way they would have been able to pull this shit off. I mean I'm a fan but I wouldn't say I'm in the fandom, I've watched all the series, yeah, but I only started watching them a couple of months ago. No one really knows I watch the show and there are way more fans that they would have chosen first like the ones that go to all the conventions or buy all the merchandise. Plus, there is no way they could have done all this without me knowing or without my permission, there's just no way. Surely not.

But then again what is the other logical explanation? They have look-a-likes that are actual FBI agents. No these were definitely them.

All heads snapped to me. This was the first time I'd spoken. I suppose it wasn't the best choice for a first word.

I tipped my head down quickly to avoid all of their eyes. Shit. Fuck. Bugger. Arseholes. Bastards. Cunts. Shitting hell. What on God’s Earth do I do. How do I approach this?

Going back to talk about this case, I heard the now 'shitting it' officer explain in a quiet whisper, to the FBI agents, what I had supposedly done. "..We haven't been able to get our hands on the clubs security footage yet but with what we've heard from the only surviving victim and from the witnesses at the crime scene heard, I think were in for an ea.... I mean, you're in an easy prosecution. We don't know how she did it but well I guess well be leaving it up to you guys and the rest of the feds now to get that information out of her."

"Thanks, bud. I think we've got the gist of it. We'll let you know if we need anything else." Jensen put on the fakest Dean like smile and slapped officer one on the back a little too hard to be a friendly 'we've got it from here', which earned a slight glare from Jared. Watching them together made me smile a little.

They didn't notice my amusement however as Jensen was waiting at the door getting a bit impatient with the slow-moving police officers that were both taking their time to exit the room. As soon as the last foot crossed the threshold the door was already closed behind them both.


	4. Chapter 4

Jared walked over to where the camcorder sat and turned the device off and tilted the head of it down to the floor as he did so. I guess this was a sign that they weren't recording our upcoming conversation but if it was a prank show they would have hidden cameras everywhere anyway. I don't know how they thought they were pranking me or why it would make for good TV, but my brain was unable to come up with any other viable conclusion.

Jensen maintained a cool calculated complexion as Jared came behind my chair with a set of keys unlocking the handcuffs that I had forgotten about up until now. Now they felt like they had a vice-like grip on my skin chaffing even with the slightest of movements. Once each hand was released I let them both swing back to my sides. As the pressure almost completely evaporated from my shoulders and wrists, a small sigh escaped. My muscles were thankful for the release. The officer who had put on the cuffs originally had obviously been in a sour mood, already assigning me as guilty before I had even had a chance to clear my name. 

"Thank you," I said looking at each of the men in front of me, in turn, firstly at Jensen then to Jared as he walked back around to the opposite side of the table, to sit next to Jensen.

With a small smile, Jared pushed a bottle of water in my direction. I hadn't noticed them bring anything into the room. I was more pre-occupied with the knowledge that two of my favourite actors were not even 3 feet away from me.

As I picked up the bottle I licked my lips. Suddenly thirst was the only thing I could think about. I didn't know how long I had gone without a drink for, it must have been at least 24 hours if not longer by how dry my mouth felt. Not more than 5 seconds had passed before I had opened the cap and swallowed the bottles contents in its entirety. Placing the bottle back onto the table, I lifted my head so I was looking straight again, while both Jensen and Jared maintained blank expressions while their eyes told of something else. I wasn't sure but it seemed like a glint of relief.

A quick look between the two of them and they had decided on something or other. However, I was not expecting the withdrawal of a knife from Jensen’s Jacket. "Okay, what the fuck. Is going on?" I pushed my chair back my eyes flickering between them both. "Get away from me", I said sternly.

A softer look graced Jared face, it was not by much but it was noticeable. "Hey, hey. Just calm down were not going to hurt you"

I laughed it off "Yeah. Okay. Sure. You've just pulled a knife out on me. Not cool. Totally. Not. Cool". I couldn't figure it out why a prank show would ever allow a knife to be drawn (that looks completely real, and very sharp may I add) to scare the living shit out of someone. It sounds like a court case to me. 

"It's a test. We have to work out what you are. Or what you're not" before I could process what was being said Jensen grabbed my hand, extending my arm on the table and running the blade across my palm. Pain shot through me from both my muscles aching and the splitting of my skin, which caused a loud hiss to erupt from my mouth. 

As soon as the blade had crossed the width of my palm Jensen let go of my hand, causing me to fall back into my chair. I took a moment staring at my bloody palm that now sat on my thigh. Well, that's just screwed my theory. There is just no way any Lawyer would agree to allow the actual cutting of someone in real life for a TV show.

I think I've figured it out, I guess I should say: 'Goodbye, Jensen and Jared.'

'Hello, Dean and Sam.'  

Now how on earth do I explain this...


	5. Chapter 5

After what seemed to be an hour, but I was sure it must have only been a few seconds, of my thoughts circulating in my mind I looked up from my hand and then straight into the eyes of Sam and then Dean.

"We're sorry about that. Had to check"

I cut dean off "You thought I was a werewolf? Wait. Fuck! I bet that was Holy water you guys gave me, wasn't it?" I asked, accusingly.

"Who are you?" Sam asked softly. "Are you a hunter?"

"No, I'm not a hunter... You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Just believe me when I say you can trust me."

"Hey look here. We have no reason to trust you, we don't know you. And unless you've forgotten, people are dead because of you. So, until you start talking and explaining yourself, you'll be staying in here for the rest of your life" Dean shot back. His expression doubly as stern as his voice.

This caused me to laugh a little when I questioned what Dean had said. " And you're saying that two non-FBI agents are going to lock me up and throw away the key are they. Before you cut me off I know you’re not FBI, you're both hunters and brothers, your names Dean" I said nodding my head in his direction and then nodded my head at Sam "And your names Sam... Winchester"

Sam and Dean's eyes held so much confusion, trying to solve a puzzle I knew they could not find all the pieces to.

"Look. I don't know how to go about this, but I need you to trust me... if only just enough to get me out of here. I need to eat and take a shower, I don't know how long I've been... out of it?" I added not knowing how to word it because even I don't know what actually happened.

"You can do whatever test you want on me, I'm human. I'm not supernatural. Salt, Iron, whatever... please I just can't stay here any longer" my eyes pleading as I tried to sound as trustworthy to them as possible.

"I promise. When we get out of here you can ask me all the questions you want. I'll answer them all."

They looked between themselves, an unsure look passing between them both. After about 30 seconds they looked as though they had come to a decision even though no word was uttered.

Both men turned back towards me, Sam clearly the most relaxed out of the two. Dean glared at me with a look that could kill, it must have been Sam that got to have his way. Sam was the first to speak. "Alright. We'll get you out of here. But you go out in the cuffs. We're still FBI agents to the rest of the station so act accordingly and we won't have a problem, will we Dean?" With that last part of the sentence coming out of Sam's mouth, he turned his head to Dean. Obviously, I missed some unspoken part of their conversation.

Dean didn't answer but rather just grumbled, seemingly disapproving of trusting me, I assumed.

Although with apparent disagreement Dean stood up from his chair taking the handcuffs off of the table and walking behind me to put them back on me. With his quite clearly pissed off attitude I wasn't expecting the way his hand softly gripped my hands to bring it up towards my lap, tightening the handcuffs around my wrists a lot looser than they had been before. The action was relatively fast so to anyone watching the act would have come across as average but I could tell he was taking extra care with me.

With my hands now in handcuffs, in my lap, both men left the room to sort out my release. They thought it best for them to do it by themselves as the whole station had been buzzing with an electric rage towards me for the act I had supposedly done.

When they came back into the room with a clear bag of belongings I realised that I had been redressed in a blue Cotton top and a blue pair of skinny jeans and that my work out clothes were ripped, covered in dirt and blood. Ugh.

As I get up to leave a voice stops me "They said that the cotton top was one of the officer’s and they want it back, so you'll have to change back into the top in your bag. The jeans were from lost and found, you can keep those" Sam gave me a weak smile as he passed me the bag.

Turning the bag upside down I emptied the contents on to the interview table taking note of what was in it. My ID (so at least they put that back), a couple of quid, my phone which was dead, my water bottle and my ruined clothes. Picking up my top, I ran my eyes over it. It was covered in gashes and blood-soaked stains covered the once lemon coloured 2-piece set.

Even though I was in no way happy about the destruction of my clothes I was somewhat happy about my supernatural themed gym clothes being dirty when I had wanted to wear them, this could've got a lot more awkward a lot more quickly.

"She can't wear that" uttered Dean.

"I know that, but what else is there"

After a second of thought, Dean was quickly out of the door. Within a couple of minutes, he was back and I was tossed a checked shirt in the form of a scrunched-up ball. "Here. Wear this"  
With two steps Sam was in front of me undoing one side of the handcuffs so I would be able to put on the shirt. " We'll be just outside the door. Put the shirt on and then knock on the door and I'll come back in and put them back on you. Then we can leave."

As soon as the door had closed I pulled off my top slowly attempting to mind my muscles. Once it was off I pulled the oversized shirt on my body buttoning the buttons up to the middle of my sports bra, I was grateful for the survival of this single piece of clothing.

Finally feeling relatively comfortable I picked up my belongings putting my phone in my left back pocket and put my change and ID into the other. With a deep breath in I calmed myself, took a step towards the door and knocked once.


	6. Chapter 6

I ignored all of the stares coming from the officers and civilians that surrounded me at every angle. My body weaved in between the desks, within the station, keeping my eyes down and my emotions unreadable. Attempting to keep up the pretence that I was intimidated by the involvement of the FBI, but I was apprehensive of the two 'FBI agents' but because of what they thought.

All eyes were on me, something that I had never experienced before. Sam set the pace as he walked in front of me, unable to speed up, anxiety built up within me because all wanted to do was to run out of the building. The atmosphere crushed me from either side making my breathing become uneasy.

The walk took only a few minutes but felt like a lifetime. Stepping out of the station's door an unexplainable amount of pressure was released presenting itself in the form of a long sigh escaping from my body. My relaxation was noticed by Sam who’s eyes showed some type of understanding and a half-smile spread across his face, from where he held the door for both me and Dean.  
When I was sure we had walked far enough from the main building to not be on the CCTV, I turned around holding out my wrists so that the handcuffs could be unlocked, I think I've have had enough of handcuffs for a while and for life.

The cuffs dropped into Sam’s hand. As the weight disappeared from my wrists, I pulled my arms above my head, stretching the rest of the tightness out of my muscles. "Are you parked in the station's car park?" looking at Dean when I asked, knowing that it would be his Baby that they'd be driving. A smile spread across my face as he nodded his answer, turning on my heels and I walked into the Police stations car park. As soon as I saw his '67 Chevy Impala, I made a straight b-line towards it. Stroking my hand lightly along the paintwork, I walked around the car to the back-seat’s door, my hand settling on the handle. Waiting for Dean to unlock the car, I marveled over the beauty of the exceptionally cared for car.

As soon as it was unlocked I pulled the handle climbing into the backseat of the car. I closed the door to the car and noticed the winding mechanism that allows you to put the window down. I smiled to myself as I wound it down, I hadn't had to unwind a window like this since I was a kid.

Although a totally new experience, the car made me feel a sense of nostalgia. I could see why the boys could almost feel at home. With so many memories that this car held, I felt comfortable and safe inside.

I was shaken from my thoughts by a cough from Dean, trying to get my attention. "Wanna go out for food, or shall we get take out?" I comprehended that this wasn't the question he was really asking. Instead, in reality, he wanted to know whether they were going to have to question me out in public or whether I was happy to be interrogated in private. Despite the fact that I didn't have anything to hide and I knew I wasn't a danger to either of them, I know I had to convince them completely before I was entirely comfortable being alone with them. Plus I didn't know how this questioning was going to go down, so I guess it would be better to have an audience.

The rest of the drive was short, with only sly glances through the rear-view mirror from Dean to break the silence.

Within no time at all, we had pulled up at a nice-enough looking diner and were stepping out of the car to go in. Deans warning look was enough to confirm my suspicions of their lacking trust.   
The friendly waitress seated the three of us towards the back of the restaurant, in a somewhat shadowed booth. Not as public as I would have liked, but I suppose that is why Sam had slipped the waitress a 20 as we walked past the hostess' station and had whispered something to her.

I slid myself into the booth first towards the wall and Sam was almost instantly sliding in next to me, effectively blocking me in. Great. Dean sat down on the other side of the booth. It hadn't gone unnoticed that neither of them made a move to take off their jackets clearly uneasy with me and the unknown I presented.

I ordered my food and drink when the waitress came but was stunned when even Dean didn't order anything. I was starving so when the food came I dug straight into the massive bacon and cheeseburger and generous portion of fries, focusing all my attention on my plate. Not more than 10 minutes had passed before I had finished my burger and the waitress came back around. Before the waitress went to pick up my plate to take it away she looked at me and to the rest of the table to ask if anyone wanted to order anything else. It took her back her when I answered with a "Yes." I mean if I was serving someone my size I would be wondering how they finished their food too, never mind wanting any more.

"A slice of apple pie please.. with ice cream" as she jotted on her notepad that she had just pulled out of her apron, I leant slightly over to Sam to ask if he wanted anything but he shook his head looking slightly agitated which I assumed was from having to wait so long for answers to their questions.  Without moving my eyes away from the now poised waitress I ordered for Dean with a knowing smile on my face. "Can we get a slice of cherry pie, if you have it, please?" my smile got wider on my face as I turned back to Dean who’s eyes squinted as he searched for answers.

No sooner had the desserts hit the table and the waitress was further enough away from the table to not hear anything Dean broke the silence. "That's it! You've eaten now, it's your turn to fulfil your side of the deal. Now, talk!  How on earth do you know stuff about us? I've never heard of a Freya, ever. You knew our names, what car I drive and that I like cherry pie."

Correcting him under my breath, I said "Love, actually" putting another forkful of pie and ice cream in my mouth, chewing it slowly able to savour the taste as I was no longer starving and therefore not wolfing my food down my throat.

"What was that?" he said angrily.

"Nothing." I got out mumbling around the pie that was still in my mouth.

"I don't really know how to explain what happened back at.. Harry's bar" I expressed, remembering the name of the bar that the officer had told me a while back. "I don't really know what happened myself, not certainly anyway". I took a breath between each sentence, trying to formulate the correct thing to say as I spoke. "I can only tell you what I know."

As I looked over Dean and Sam as I explained I could tell that both were as equally unsettled and on edge waiting for what I could possibly say. My extended pause compelled Sam to nod, attempting to encourage me to carry on talking.

"I guess I should start with an introduction. My names Freya Michaels. I'm from England. I'm 20 years old. And.. my birthday is 1st of March.. 1998" before either of them could respond I carried on speaking not wanting questions to interrupt the way I wanted to reveal what I knew.

"I don't know how it happened but one minute I was out on a run, enjoying the sunset, and the next thing I know I landed onto hard gravel, which I assume is outside of Harry's Bar. I passed out, I have no idea what happened, I promise you, the only thing I noticed was my body crumpling into a ball on the floor. I've never even been to America before." While I had been speaking I was looking in the direction of Sam and Dean but was not really taking them in, trying to stop myself from getting distracted by their reactions.

"Where I come from, both of you.. don't really exist, I guess. I mean, your lives are a television show called Supernatural. Dean, you're played by a man called Jensen Ackles and Sam you're played by Jared Padalecki." Looking at each of them in turn.

My head automatically tipped to the side fractionally giving them time to get their thoughts together and to also not burden them with too much information.

"That's it." Deans fists came flying down on the table making me jump in my seat. "Prove yourself. I don't know how you could of known the things you know but I certainly don't believe what you're saying. Who would even want to watch our lives on TV anyway."

My expression softened empathising with how fucked up all this is, and how I felt when I first worked out what was happening and where I was.

"Me for one, but you'd be surprised how many fans you've got in my universe." If only they knew their following.. and the fanfiction people wrote.

"I know you guys probably think I'm crazy but I know you guys. I know your story, more than you do at this point. Ask me questions if you want, but you've got to understand that I'm in an early stage of your life and I've watched over 10 years of your life. I have to be careful about what I reveal to you both. I don't know how much I can tell you about your future. I've watched enough Doctor Who and Back to the Future to not know the dangers of knowing to much of your future. This earned a chuckle, so we were all laughing now but we all soon simmered down to serious faces again.

"You guys doing okay? I know this is probably a lot to take in right now."

"Awesome. Just awesome." Dean said in his very Dean way.

Despite his voice sounding pissed off, I could tell he had relaxed a lot with me though not completely, he was still on guard. He picked up his fork and started shoveling large amounts of pie into his mouth, even his eyes had stopped drilling into me and were now sharing their time between his pie, me and Sam.

Sam didn't appear completely sold yet and had turned to try to catch me out with questions. "What’s our parent's names?" Sam fired his questions at me. I was determined to keep up with him, to prove to both the brothers that I could be trusted. They were the ones I would need to help me get home and to just survive in this alternate reality I had been thrust into. I had no one else to turn to and no money. I wouldn't survive a day. I didn't even know where I was, other than the very general area of the United States of America.

"John and Mary Winchester. Maiden name, Campbell." It flowed out my mouth confidently. Finishing the last of my pie, I pushed the plate into the middle of the table and relaxed against the leather covered bench we were sitting on. I turned on my seat so I could look at Sam better as he was the one who had taken up the questioning.

"What do you know about them?" His surprise that I knew the answer didn't make him falter with the firing of questions.

"A relatively decent amount. Like I keep on saying until I know where I am in your storyline..." I took a breath getting defensive. I couldn't think of any real way of proving myself, it was exasperating. I just wanted to be accepted.

"Well. When you were 6 months old the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel, came and killed your mum, in a fire in Sam's nursery. Dean carried Sam out of the house. That's what started your Dad on his mission to find out what killed your mum. On his travels, he discovered other supernatural creatures like vampires, werewolves, spirits, the lot. He wrote about those cases in his Journal." I had thought about calling it John's Dad journal but they certainly didn't look like they were old enough to know they were Men of Letters, and it was a can of worms that I certainly did not want to open so early.

"I know quite a bit more but, yanoe... Timelines and that."

I took this time to really observe the men in front of me. Each wore a cheap black suit that didn't fit either of them well. Settling my eyes on each of them individually my eyes rested on Dean. His eyes were fanfiction green like everyone had described, vibrant in the stream of light that came in from the windows at the front of the diner, in an amazing way that made my stomach flutter a little. The camera did not do his handsome features justice. He was so damn pretty. I had to shake the small smile that had made its way onto my face without noticing.

I let my head turn and my eyes wander onto Sam. He looked so young, not too much older than me really. He definitely was not from the first couple of seasons young but I couldn't pinpoint how old either of them were, either way.

Just when it looked like one of them were going to speak, I blurted out "How old are you" without thinking staring intently at Sam.

"Me? 25?" It sounded more like a question when he answered.

Not saying anything back I just nodded knowingly, as I had worked out that it was somewhere during Season 4, counting out their age versus season on my fingers.

"Season 4" The two words slipped out of my mouth, verbalising my thought process.

"That means that Dean has just come back from hell." All of a sudden something came to my mind. Hell meant that they knew at least one angel. Castiel... Castiel could get me home. If he wanted to that is.

I closed my eyes.

I hope this works.

'Castiel. Cas. Can you hear me, we need to talk, Like right now.'

The sound of flapping wings made me open my eyes. I felt the bench and table jolt as Dean and Sam jumped in their seats and another body hit the bench. There, next to Dean, sat Castiel. Not present day's Cas. He looked older, tired and worn out.

He smiled at me but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"What’s wrong Cas...?" was all I was able to ask.


	7. Chapter 7

“We’re Losing. We’re losing the fight, the war. You’ve been chosen to help the Winchesters in the war by heaven.” Cas’s kind eyes were fixated on me, however the overwhelming saddness and exhaustion showed in his eyes as well as his voice.

“Why me. What could I possibly be able to do to help? This is just a show to me, I have no special skills, no supernatural powers, what use am I?”

With a small smile on his face, Cas said. “More than you could know.”

“That does not answer me Cas. Why am I here, season 4 here, and not in season 13 or wherever you’re from?”

"We had to find an alternate universe to ours. One that had minimal differences to our own, at the start of Dean and Sam's lives. This is the point is where their fork goes left and my universe went right." He said it with such a matter of fact tone like that was all I needed to know and somehow that explained everything. Angels…

“Okay and.. Why did you need a different set of Sam and Dean?”

"You've watched the time travelling classics, haven't you? Different realities of the same people should have no effect but we had no idea what could happen. Whether if we used past Sam and Dean they'd fade into non-existence, or whether it would split a hole in time and space, there was no predicting what would happen. Not even angels know that much about time travelling"

"Hmm, okay.. and what's my role in all this?"

"You've watched the show over and over again. You can help save the people that my realities Dean and Sam have been unable to. Educate them about things you know about their family and about my universe. Train them. We're losing the war and we need more soldiers"

Before I was able to ask anything else, he vanished. The sound of wings confirming his departure.

A sigh escaped my mouth as I stared at the empty seat next to Dean, where Cas had been just moments ago. 

My mind refocused with a clearing of the throat from across the booth. Pulling my head up I saw that both Sam and Dean were staring intently at me. Just when I thought I had made some headway with them. I’ve taken 50 steps back.

“I need the toilet” before either of the brothers could refuse me, I jumped up on to the booth’s seat. Gripping the back of the seat I hurdled over it landing on my feet and took off in a fast walk to the ‘ladies’. 

Although I had needed the toilet, the need to just think and not be in the presence of anyone overruled my needs. Putting the toilet seat down I sat down, letting my head tip to the side to rest against the toilet stall wall divide. 

Somehow without an audience, I felt able to collect my senses, becoming aware of myself all at once. My muscles in my body still screamed with any sort of movement, I was sweating in the sweltering heat of the mid-day and I felt like I was underwater weighed down unable to reach the surface to quench my starving lungs. With answers came a million more questions in my mind. I didn’t know how to cope. I didn’t know what to do. It was all too much.

I fought to collect myself to leave the bathroom but every time I was almost ready to unlock the stall I would sigh and lose myself again. 

This was just ridiculous, I knew if I didn’t sort myself out soon I knew I would be stuck here for hours. With this thought a knock sounded against the outer most door to the toilets.  
“Freya?” I noticed the voice had come from Sam. 

“Yeah? Gimme a minute.” Hearing footsteps leading away from the bathroom, I let a deep breath out preparing myself to pull myself up from my position, on the toilet. 

After unlocking the door, I walked forward to face the mirrors that lined one of the walls. Looking into the mirror in front of me I took in my appearance. The mirrors sat above the sinks, so I decided to attempt to make myself a little bit more presentable from the tired and grimy person that currently stood in the mirror.

Seizing my given minute, I turned on the cold tap and squeezed the soap from its dispenser into my grubby palm. I began with washing my hands, then moved onto my face and other exposed parts of my skin. The cool water both aided waking me up and the cooling of my temperature. Although not perfect I did feel a lot cleaner. To finish off I pulled the bobble from my wrist and gathered my shoulder length up into my hand and slipped the bobble over the hair to secure it into a bun on the top of my head.

Nodding to the reflection in the mirror I deemed myself respectable enough to go back into the restaurant. I breathed in one last deep breath before pushing open the door out into the seating area. My eyes met Dean’s as I came up behind where Sam sat. He jerked his head up slightly in my direction signaling to Sam that I was back, his head turned to me as I walked around to the end of the table. I sat down next to Dean this time as he was still next to the wall. “Look, I don’t know anything more than you about why I’m here but I do know quite a bit about you both. And, well, that includes things that you don’t know about yourself. Please, believe me when I say, you can trust me. I totally understand that you don’t right now but you will. I’m tired and I need to sleep, I’m overwhelmed with this and I am not dealing with this well.” Pausing, I took a second to recompose what I wanted to say next, because the truth was I was just talking as the words came to me. I didn’t know whether what was coming out of my mouth was making sense or whether it was doing anything to help with my case with the brothers, but that was all I could think of right now. They would just have to satisfied with that, at least for now.

A hand surprised me, as it came into view. Dean had reached over to me and squeezed my hands which were placed on the table, in a reassuring way. The simple action of the squeeze dispelled much of my anxiousness, my body relaxing with the touch. All that Dean said was “Okay”.

That was all I needed, and I was glad that that was enough for them at least for now.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thank you" A strained smile spread across my face. Happiness overwhelmed me and water welled in my eyes, I was able to press my emotions down fast enough that I think my influx of emotion was missed.

Removing his hand from my own Dean spoke. "We'll take you back to our motel to sleep, but first you'll want some clothes of your own, I guess we don't know how long you'll be with us." In spite of the fact, neither of them were entirely happy with the situation, they put aside their hesitation towards me to look after me.

Dean leant closer towards the wall to get out the wallet that had resided in his back pocket. He tossed the 20 that was now in his hand onto the table, not bothering to call the waitress back to the table to get the bill.

We left the restaurant and drove away.

The three of us meandered the aisles of the store together, each of us putting an item into the trolley as we saw something suitable for me, a shirt here, a pair of jeans there. Once we had done I made my way over purposely to the underwear as it seemed to have escaped the brothers' minds that I would need anything to go underneath the many layers we had picked up. Each of them split off from me making their way over to the men's section like they were somehow embarrassed, which made me giggle under my breath. These were grown, men.

Getting to the underwear section I picked up a bra and a couple of sports bras god knows I would need them if I was to keep up with those two. Along with those I picked up pants and socks.

Finally, happy enough with my collection I slowly made my way over to where Sam and Dean had compiled their own basket worth of clothes to buy.

When I reached them, they dumped their stuff into the trolley and we carried on weaving through the aisles, picking up things they needed, until we reached the tills at the front of the shop.

An averagely attractive middle-aged woman, with a blue cotton vest on, greeted me. Her sights then flicked on to the men, behind me flirting with each of them shamelessly, once we had got to the conveyer belt. I started to bag up the items we bought as the lady scanned each item, while Sam and Dean placed each item on the moving belt. After a few minutes, all of the items had been bagged up and Sam had paid the total, with a credit card I was sure they had gotten fraudulently. I softly shook my head laughing to myself again, I'm sure people are going to think I'm mad the way I laugh to myself all the time. Which in turn made me laugh again.

Picking up the bags, I put them under my arms, and began my way out of the store. By the time I had gotten to the exit the others had caught up and we were now in step with each other.

We dumped the bags each of us held, into the boot of the car.

Soon we were back at the motel they were staying at.

I sat on the sofa that presided in the middle of the room, with the bags next to me. I sorted through it, putting my stuff into the duffle bag we had bought. Sam grabbed the 2 bags that contained groceries and toiletries and put the items away, in their corresponding 'homes'.

About 5 minutes later Dean walked into the motel room placing a set of keys on the kitchenette counter. "Luckily the motel had a spare room. Either Sam or me will sleep in there tonight. We would give the room to you but we can't leave you alone, unprotected. Sorry."

"It's alright, you really shouldn't have gone to the trouble of getting the extra room though I wouldn't have minded sleeping on the sofa yanoe. I suppose whoever's names on the credit card can afford it anyway, I guess."

My comment got their attention, each looked at me with a little bit of scepticism but neither said anything.

Turning my attention back to the things I had bought, I withdrew the notepad and pen from the bag. Considering that I was still too on edge to sleep and thoughts were currently circling my mind I chose to take some notes about what I knew. Names, places, actors/ actresses, plots and facts I knew got jotted down in the book in a messy jumble of words.

I didn't know what information I'd need to share with the Winchesters yet or what I'd need in the future, so everything that came to mind got written on the sheets of paper in front of me. 10 pages of writing later and I was yawning every 30 seconds or so, I now felt sufficiently tired enough to go to sleep.

I flipped the notebook shut, while I walked over to the bed closest to me and put it under the pillow as I got into the sheets, still clothed.

The next thing I knew I was awoken by the smell of burning. I sat up quickly in the bed, searching for the affliction to my nostrils. Sighting Dean at the stove made me realise that that hadn't all been a dream and he was currently massacring something he was attempting to cook.

Jolting out of bed I made my way over to where he stood, grabbing the handle off of him. With my other hand, I turned off the gas. "What were you trying to cook?"

"Spaghetti Bolognese" he muttered.

I burst out laughing when I saw that he had somehow managed to burn spaghetti. How? I don't know. How he managed to look after Sam for so many years baffled me.

My laughing ceased when I saw the anger and sadness in his eyes even though his face attempted to present a non-caring attitude.

"Where's Sam?" I asked as I tried to salvage what pasta I could and added more spaghetti to the pan. This time I put in enough water and placed it on the ring in the back.

"In the shower in the room, next door. I said I'd cook. We couldn't both leave the room, especially since you were asleep.

"Hmm, okay. Well don't worry about this, I'll cook. Shower if you want, dinner will be done in 30 minutes or so."

All I got was a quiet grunt in response. Grabbing a towel from a shelf, Dean made his way into the bathroom shutting and locking the door behind him.

Hearing the stream of water coming from the shower brought a smile to my face. Whilst I knew I had a long way to go, this small amount of give made me think that there was a chance I could win him over and get him to trust me.

Spaghetti Bolognese. 

Back to the task at hand. 

I turned toward the small fridge freezer in the corner hoping to find the ingredients I needed. I managed to find enough to do the job. I chopped up the ingredients and began frying off the onion and mince in a pan together. Turning on the gas for the pasta I set about finishing off the Bolognese.

It had been about 10 minutes since Dean had stepped into the shower when he came back out wearing only a towel around his waist. He nearly jumped from his skin. Gripping the place in which he'd tucked in the towel, he stopped still in his tracks "Err.. Yeah. Sorry, forgot you were here. Guess I'm not used to living with anyone else but Sam... or my Dad".

My eyes worked upwards scanning over every inch of him that was not covered by the towel, noticing the scars that were jotted across his entire body. Spaced out I closed the space in between us both as I noticed the necklace that hung from his neck, the ‘Samulet’. I hadn't realised it seemed like I had been blatantly checking him out until I was brought out of my trance by a chuckle. Fuck. My eyes shot up, from the pendant that currently sat in my palm, to his. I glared at his puzzled expression, before turning my attention back to what I was cooking, hiding my blush that had rose to my cheeks. It was difficult to not notice things and comment on them when you know the future.

“Don’t lose that necklace. Keep it safe.” I paused briefly before adding, “Get dressed. Dinner will be ready in 15”.

Nothing else was said. Dean just made his way over to the wardrobe at the side of the beds and grabbed some clothes. Then he made his way over back to the bathroom. After a minute had passed he made his way back out, fully clothed this time.

“Need any help?” a smidge of amusement still on his lips.

“Grab some plates out of the cupboard if you want, I’m not ready to dish up yet but I’ll need them in a few” he set about doing the task I had given him, as the plates were being lined up on the counter, the door swung open as Sam entered.

“Smells good what are you cooking?” Sam smiled as he looked over to me and discovered that it was me that was cooking and not Dean.

“Bolognese. That alright?” I responded, smiling back.

“If it tastes as good as it smells. Definitely!” his smile grew wider as he got closer and could see the contents of the pans.

By the time the plates were laid out and dean had washed up the cutlery that had been sat in the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the food was cooked and I started to plate it up. “I cooked plenty, so if I didn’t give you enough there’s more in the pan.” I made my way over to the sofa where Sam and Dean now currently sat. I passed each of them their plate before stepping over Dean’s legs which were propped up on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I sat down in-between them with my own dinner in my hands enjoying the warmth that the brothers and my plate emitted. The evening had made the temperature drop a reasonable amount. I earned a ‘thanks’ from Sam and an almost thank you which came out as a mumble, from Dean, as he devoured the heap of spaghetti in front of him.

“Good, I’m guessing?” This time, both of their answers came out as a mumble as they ate away. Confirming my own question, I took a bite out of the pasta that I had wound onto my fork. Wow, at least I know there’s one dish I can cook.

Dean seemed to take full advantage of the extra food as he scooped more spaghetti on to his plate making this his fourth plate. Sam had had an extra portion too but I don’t know where he put it all.

Picking up the plate from my lap Sam made his way to the sink, dumping them in there. I followed him and grabbed a tea towel from the countertop, as he ran the water so he could wash our plates. “Thanks again Freya, that was really nice of you to cook for us.”

“No thank you. I know you don’t trust me yet and you have no reason too but you could have treated me a lot worse if you had wanted too. Please don’t think I don’t see that or appreciate it.” I tried to articulate my feelings a little better than I had managed earlier. While we were talking I knew Dean was listening in as he sneakily eased the volume down on the TV he had been watching. Although I knew he was listening, the words I wanted to say came out easier knowing I didn’t have multiple sets of eyes grilling me.

“Being with you is a lot to take in. I mean I have watched much of your lives on television and you’re in front of me. I feel like I know you both but I don’t, not fully anyway. And it’s weird that I feel that I know you and you don’t know me at all... I’m struggling to explain myself.”

“No. It’s okay. I think I understand you enough. You are right we don’t fully trust you but we have to trust in something and if that’s just that we trust you’ll tell us the truth when we need to know well I guess that’ll have to do, at least for now.” Sam had a way of putting me at ease, I don’t know whether it was his voice or his way with words but it made me happy to know I had him around.

It took us less time to do the dishes than it took us to have this conversation. Once we both had said what we wanted Sam said goodnight and took his bag leaving the room Dean and I was in.

Putting the last glass into the cupboard I sat back down on the sofa next to Dean, he hadn’t even bothered to take his dish to the sink he had only managed to move it as far as the coffee table.

I settled into the sofa and began watching whatever shite Dean had decided to put on.

Within minutes I had fallen asleep.

This time it wasn’t burning, it was the banging on the front door that shook me awake. Sunlight flooded my eyes as I opened them, the morning rays illuminating the room. I fell into the sofa as Dean jumped up startled by the banging, whipping out a gun from the waistband of his jeans. I stood up quickly as I didn’t know what was on the other side of the door, either.

The door opened to reveal an amused Sam as he took in the sight of me rubbing the sleep out of my eyes combined with Dean’s still surprised expression and the one unmade bed. His eyebrow raised questioningly.

“What! She fell asleep on me while we were watching TV. I didn’t want to wake her.”

When Dean’s rapid explanation didn’t convince Sam he just grumbled. “Sam. Don’t”

The smile left Sam’s face, realizing it wasn’t what it had previously seemed. I doubted there had been any instance where it wasn’t what it looked like when it came to Dean. Meanwhile, I wiped at the drool that had been running down my chin. I was still out of it due to the fact I was definitely not a morning person.  
Shutting the door behind himself he made his way over to the kitchenette pulling out a frying pan, grabbing items out of the cupboards as he walked along the length of the wall.

“Can’t we eat out? We ate in last night, and because Freya turned up I couldn’t eat my burger at lunch.” Dean moaned out, complaining that his breakfast might be slightly healthier if Sam was to cook it.

“No. We don’t have time. Bobby assigned us a case we have to leave as soon as we’ve eaten and you both have gotten dressed.” Countered Sam.

“We can’t get something on the way?”

“No. You can eat something that’s not covered in grease for once. Suck it up.”

Only half listening to what the brothers were squabbling about I rifled through my bag pulling out an outfit I wanted to wear and went into the bathroom to make myself clean again.

I took my time. Stepping into the stream of the shower, I let water race down my skin, washing the suds away from where I had previously applied the shampoo and shower gel. The grime and sweat that had collected on my flesh, ran off my body and down the drain.

Now not smelling like something had died, I stepped out of the shower and went about getting dressed. Not bothering to brush through my hair I wrapped half of it back into a bun on the top head. 

The beautiful scent of bacon wafted under the bathroom door. Just as I leant forward to push down the handle Sam shouted, “You better get in here Frey if you want anything to eat”. I opened the door to see a couple of pieces of bacon clamped between Dean fingers and his mouth chewing rapidly. Sam just looked at him disapprovingly while chewing on his own piece of bacon. 

“Thanks for waiting, Dean.” The sarcastic comment caused both of them to look over at me, Sam smiled and chuckled while Dean just rolled his eyes and grabbed yet another piece of bacon and ripped it between his teeth as a kind of, middle finger up, rebellion. 

Shortly after breakfast and we had cleared out the motel of all of our belongings were back in Baby and we were on our way to see what case Bobby had found.


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey. Frey. What are you writing there?” I looked up from the pages that I had been scribbling on, noticing Dean nodding in the direction of my notebook before turning his attention back the road ahead. I smiled at the nickname that had seemed to have stuck since Sam had called me it this morning.

“I’m just trying to figure out a timeline. With Cas leaving like that yesterday I didn’t get to ask what I was supposed to do here other than the broad, weak ass explanation he gave. I’m ticking things off as I go, so I can attempt to pinpoint the knowledge you’ve found out, what cases you’ve been on and who you’ve met, that kind of thing. So far, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re from season four, with Dean having been to hell and all. I’ve just got to work out which episode.” I said vocalizing my thought process.

“Anyways so what was your last case, maybe that will help me?”

“It wasn’t a typical case for us, not that’s really a thing for us anymore. An Angel wiped our memories and tossed us into a mundane working life. It was a Ghost case.”

“Just a little creative lesson, from Zachariah” Dean added to Sam’s answer. 

“Oh, hmm. Okay…” I said drawing it out. If my memory served the next few episodes of the Winchesters life would prove to be quite, uh, ‘interesting’ to say the least. 

“And where is Bobby sending you both?” I said curiously hoping to see my first monster.

“We don’t know yet actually, Bobby said it wasn’t too far away from him so asked us to pay him a visit before we made our way to the case. Said he had some new part for Deans car, that he salvaged from one of the cars he had.” It seemed that the news of the car part put a smile on Deans face and the thought of getting to meet another member of their family put a smile on mine.

Taking the opportunity, I leant my head against the window staring out at the landscape before me. Though it seemed that I had been in Baby for half of my time in this universe I hadn’t calmed the mess in my mind long enough to take in anything more than what was in front of me. Bar the sun’s extreme heat the view wasn’t too different. A field was just a field at the end of the day, but that didn’t make the view any less enjoyable. 

Every few miles there would be something of interest something new to looks at, a rundown looking barn there, a quaint house here. It was so beautiful taking in the unique little details of the country. 

The time went by slowly. The midday blue sky that had graced the sky when we left had become full of colour. Shades of pink, lilac and orange painted it, gradating into blue at the highest points in the sky. As the sun rested on the horizon we pulled into a private side road, the ride was a lot bumpier due to the small stones that littered it. 

I was grateful for the fact that the road was not too long and so we were soon pulling up beside Bobby’s house. Within a matter of minutes, we had collected our own bags from the boot and were at the front door. Two knocks later and the door swung open. The only thing I could see was the warm coloured light from the hallway that streamed out of the doorway. Sam and Dean blocked my view as they stood in front of me. Once the boys were through the door I moved into the light, only to be pulled over the threshold and into the house. 

“Try getting out of that one” Bobby said to me pointing up at the ceiling where a demon trap was perfectly drawn. “You were followed ya idjits, you boys are never that stupid to lead one here” Bobby called to the brothers that were no longer in sight.

Before I had time to even blink what I assumed to be holy water was thrown into my face.

Wiping at the water on my face, I stepped out of the boundaries of the trap and made my way down the hallway towards the kitchen where I had seen Sam and Dean disappear into as I had been dragged into the house. “I’m not a Demon” 

This time it was my time to call to the brothers “You thought it was a good idea to not introduce me to one of the most paranoid people I’ve ever known? Sam? Dean?” 

With the sound of his name Dean popped his head out of the kitchen, his face not showing an ounce of concern, while his mouth was full to the brim with pie. “Freya Michaels meet Bobby Singer paranoid hunter, Bobby Singer meet Freya Michaels, Um... time travelling fan?”

“Well thank for that Dean, such a help.” I said rolling my eyes in Dean’s direction, though I doubted he saw it as he quickly darted back into the kitchen. I’m sure only to get a second slice. 

Bobby could have ended my life right then and there if it had been a salt gun he was carrying and not a flask of holy water. 

“Sorry about that, so you know about monsters then?” Bobby questioned me as sceptical of me as both Sam and Dean had been.

“Yeah, I thought with us coming here Sam would have told you at least something about me while you were on the phone with him earlier. Sorry, I should know better to sneak up on a hunter.” I followed Bobby into the Kitchen where Dean sat with his pie, speaking to him as I walked.

“So. Are you a hunter then? Sam and Dean don’t really play well with others, I’m surprised you’re allowed to tag along”

Bobby motioned for me to sit at the table, from his own chair that was positioned opposite Dean. “Well, I suppose where that’s where it gets quite interesting actually” I paused formulating what to say next “This isn’t my universe, in my universe you guys, this house and monsters are all figments of someone’s imagination that they made into a television show.” Bobby sat quietly as I spoke, I was thankful that I could explain before having to answer any questions.  
“I have watched the lives of Sam and Deans lives unfold on a Television screen. There have been 13 season’s worth of their life broadcasted. In my universe monsters aren’t real.”

It looked as though Bobby was collecting himself as he took a few seconds after I had finished for him to start speaking again. “And just how are you here? Why are you here?” 

I wish I knew, I really do. “The answer to those questions aren’t very clear. The Cas from the, season 13, future decided to drop in on the three of us but didn’t offer much information. All I know is that I have to stop the war in the future and save the people future Sam and Dean have lost. Not at all vague, is it?” I sighed putting my head in my hands.”

I heard a Bobby sounding grumble from the seat next to mine “It’s not like we have the apocalypse of our own to stop.”

The mention of the apocalypse added another piece of information into my timeline. “Well actually, I do know how you could stop it. Rather simple really, we’ve just got to stop Sam from killing Lilith. She’s the last seal.” 

That statement drew Dean’s attention away from his pie “That’s it, just not kill the bitch?”

I didn’t answer but instead asked my own question. “Where is Sam?” 

“Said he wanted to walk a while, alone, to wind down a bit you know from sitting in the car all day” 

“Hmm, I’ve never noticed him doing that before… that a common thing” I said trying to think back to all of the episodes I had watched.

“Yeah. I guess so, haven’t really noticed it much before you mentioned it. And now that you do he follows the same exact pattern. His agitation increases and then he makes a phone call or is constantly texting, then he leaves rather suddenly and goes for a ‘walk’. He was just on the phone before you came in, sounded like a woman on the other end, I had passed it off as just a hook up” The points clicked together as Dean reeled of his observations.

“Dean. Sam is hardly the hookup type, is he?” I asked rhetorically.

“Wait, you see us hooking up with people?” Dean’s concern heightened.

“Now is not the time to worry about that, you man slag” I sweetly smiled at him adding a wink when the comment didn’t impress him.

I got up from my seat and leant over the table to unzip the bag that I had placed there, I pulled the small notepad out with the pen hooked onto the cover. Pulling the pen off, I opened the pages and ran the pen down the lined pages for the piece of information I was looking for. I stopped the pen halfway down the third page seeing what I had written in bold letters which I had gone over multiple times ‘drinking demon blood’. “That’s it I’ve got it. I bet Sam’s gone to see Ruby… We’re gonna have to stop him, he can’t stop himself” 

Before I could finish my sentence, Bobby interjected. “Stop him from what exactly, seeing the Demon?” 

“No, well yeah. Ruby is playing the long game and needs to be killed but Sam’s drinking her blood to become stronger. Strong enough to exorcise even relatively powerful demons from their meat suits… Even kill them.” I added looking between Dean and Bobby, a mix of confusion and anger on both their faces.  
“Sam is not drinking Demon blood. We haven’t known you for a day and you’re throwing an accusation at Sam like you can, like you’re a part of our family.”   
Dean shot me with a low blow. Of course, I was nowhere near family and I didn’t expect to be I had only known the brothers for over a day but he had said it maliciously. He said it to hurt. I knew they didn’t trust me but what could I do to prove myself?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. I have been brainstorming some ideas for a title but I'm struggling. I would really appreciate it if you would comment a recommendation for this book. While some people have said the current title is okay I just don't like it and would really love the help.
> 
> I am not in a rush to rename it so if you want to just see what kind of content I write next before suggesting something I understand. If I like your title suggestion and I use it I will follow you and dedicate a chapter to you. 
> 
> Thank you for at least listening <3

The next hour was spent talking with Bobby and Dean attempting to find something to make them trust me, even if just enough to lock up Sam. I knew it was for the better but they didn't, not yet anyway. Family meant everything to them and like Dean had said I wasn't a part of it, which meant that I would have to pull something decent out of the bag some piece of information that only someone like me would know.

"I know where God is" This statement caused both men in the room to turn fully in their seats to face me, 110% of their attention focused on me.

"He's in Heaven, commanding the angels." Bobby said simply, yet I could tell he didn't totally believe the words that he had spoken.

I offered a small smile. "No. He hasn't been there for a while. The angels are running the show. You might have been wondering why only a few angels have ever seen god, he's given up on us all."

Though in my own universe I was an atheist I knew that the belief that there was a God / Gods (depending on your religion) that looked over you, loved you and helped when you prayed to him was an extremely important ideology.

I hated to be the person to pull that rug away from underneath believers. I didn't believe in it, but that didn't mean that I thought religions weren't a powerful force to be reckoned with.

They unite people from different walks of lives, different countries and languages.

Not a minute had passed before all three of us were startled by the rattling of the front door knob. Sam was back.

"He's on earth. I can take you to him... Please"

Dean stood from his seating position. "If you're lying about this, I swear to God I will kill you. I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for him.

I was shot a glare from Dean as the door opened, to reveal Sam walking through the hallway into the kitchen. Dean turned to Sam smiling. A brief look between Dean and Bobby signified an unspoken agreement. "Hey there Sammy, where you been?"

When Sam looked up he stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickered between each of our serious expressions. Before he could say anything or react Dean had closed the space between them and knocked him over the head, I was sure any normal person would have brain damage from a hit like that.

Sam's legs collapsed from underneath him, making him crumple into an awkward looking heap on the floor, his legs and arms sprawled on the floor.

"When you did this on the Television show you put him in the Panic Room. You have built the Panic Room already haven't you, Bobby?"

Bobby answered with a gruff grunt "Yep. We better get him in there quick, before he wakes up."

///

"Without Sam, I don't know if we'll be able to work out where he lives. It wasn't on the show, or if it was I don't remember where." I explained, hoping I hadn't lost everything I had worked to achieve.

"So, your saying I knocked my brother over the head and locked him up, trusting you, and now you're telling me you don't know where God is?" Dean raised his voice, his patience evidently thinning with me.

I made my way over to the bag that laid in the middle of the hallway, from where it dropped from Sam's shoulder as he was knocked unconscious 15 minutes ago and opened it. The contents was a jumble of items, however, there was one item I was looking for, a laptop. Pulling it out of the bag I made my way back through to the kitchen to take up my old position at the table.

I began typing away in the browser, as I spoke. "The reason you first meet God, wasn't because you were looking for him."

"You had gone on a suspected ghost case, I'm pretty sure it's the same one that Bobby was going to tell you about when we got here. In the TV show, you and Sam go into a comic book store in your FBI 'uniforms' asking the questions like you normally do, but this guy had read a book series called Supernatural. He wasn't sold by your act, suits, badges or your rock aliases, they matched the books he read, featuring a Sam and Dean who were hunters. These 'supernatural' books are based on your life. God wrote them."

"God wrote them?" Bobby asked his voice almost angry.

Adjusting the laptop so it now faced Dean and Bobby who were currently staring at me I carried on explaining "Yeah. He prefers the name Chuck now. The books are written by his own alias though, a Carver Edlund. These are the books here look, the Supernatural Series"

Both Dean and Bobby got closer to the laptop display and scanned the page that I had pulled up. "Like I said I don't know where he is exactly but I do know where we can find out". I scrolled down the page to reveal the address of the publishers. "We can find out his address here". If we had had Sam here there might have been a possibility of tracking down an address for chuck but Dean's technology skills were no way up to par to be able to find out information like that.

"You two better get a move on. Sam has been out a while already, I doubt he'll be out for much longer. I'll keep an eye out on him." It was like Sam had a sixth sense that we were talking about him as he began banging against the door, of the panic room, the noise travelled up through the house.

"Be careful Bobby. Sam's going to go through an intense withdraw, that blood was doing some freaky things to him."

Bobby left us with his parting words as we grabbed our belongings and made our way out of the house. "You both better hurry up then and get back here to help me out"

The car fell silent as Dean drove away from the house. An uneasy feeling settled within me, I had made Dean leave the thing he loved most alone with Bobby when he knew his brother was going to go through the extreme pain I had mentioned. So, I at least hoped the introduction was going to go well enough to put me in good stead. The silence was uncomfortable, every time I had ridden in the car before now had been quiet and music less but it had been a pleasant kind of silence that required no talking or music to fill it.

I leant over slightly from my place in the passenger seat to turn on the radio. It roared to life blaring the last tape that Dean had left in the console. Although I still felt a vexed aura radiating off of Dean the steady sound of the beat seemed to calm him, I noticed in my peripheral vision his shoulders visibly relaxing, even if by just a small amount. I didn't know the song playing but being as it was one that Dean listened to it interested me. It was an insight into the brother's world. While the television show I watched was true to the characters as the creators and the actors saw them to see the real deal and experience them in person was something else entirely.

The rest of the route to the address I had found online was painful, to say the least. Dean wore a solid unreadable mask the whole way, never stopping for food or a toilet break. We just kept driving.

As soon as I thought I had made progress, gaining trust, I just went 10 steps back and to be honest it was draining. I had been 2 weeks away from going into my third year of university but here I was, thrown into a world I had only been able t0 visit in my dreams. Did I really know what I had been wishing for? It's easy looking at your own boring life and wishing it was different. Yet here I was doubting if this is what I actually wanted, with an immeasurable amount of pressure on my shoulders.


	11. Lets Go Meet God

“Okay. Stop. Pull over.” Deans head turned to me shock written all over his face from my sudden outburst.

After turning off the ignition to the car, Dean waited patiently yet clearly unnerved for my next set of words.

“I am not doing this with you right now. I am not playing a game with you, you think this is fun for me? That I’d choose to be here right now sat in silence in a hot car, sticky with sweat, extremely hungry and thirsty, for what? What do I get out of this experience? Nothing. You can sit here thinking that I am the problem but I am not, I had as much control coming here as you did so I am telling you now that I’ve had enough with being punished for it, for something I have no control over.” My eyes didn’t leave Dean’s as I relayed my feeling to him, his eyes softened under my own almost daring him to interrupt what I was saying. “Of course, I understand your hesitancy to trusting me but you have to let me prove myself to you. I have watched you and your brothers lives pass by on screen and if there is one thing that stands out constantly in every season and episode is the love you have for your brother Sam, and let me assure you that I would never do anything to hurt either of you” I caught myself before I said, ‘I love you both’. In truth I did love them, I loved all that Sam and Dean’s characters represented and now seeing them I loved them as people. 

Dean gripped the steering wheel and turned his head to look out of the window looking at the cars that whipped past us as we sat stationary at the side of the road. When he still didn’t speak again I spoke again. “All I’m asking is that you stop punishing me.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t mean to.” I was still looking at him even though he was still facing away from me. I was kind of expecting more than I received but his face was telling me more than his mouth did. His poker face was not good enough to fool me into thinking that he held no emotion. Whether those emotions were for me or for what I had said I didn’t know but either one was enough for me to have faith in the fact that there was still more to his façade that he kept attempting to radiate but somehow kept slipping away at moments while we were together.

“I know. I’m sorry when I slip into a conversation as if I am a part of your family or like I know you, but in my mind, I am and I do know you. In a way, anyway.” I took a breath in before finishing. “I will try to be more reserved when it comes to the way I talk and act around you if you try to give me a little leeway. Have we got a deal” I stuck my hand out hoping to get his agreement. For a second I thought that he was going to reject the offer until he reached out and slotted his right hand in mine and shook it firmly.

This agreement seemed to set in place quickly as soon as we had pulled out back into the road we were pulling back into a diner parking bay. We took our time ordering food and a drink inside with small talk breaking up the eating and drinking, an hour later and we were back on the road with a much better atmosphere radiating from both of us.

With a click of the cassette that had been playing on repeat for the last several hours was ejected from the hole. “Pick something out. All the cassettes are in the glove compartment”. I pulled out a handful placing them on my lap so that I could look over each of the labels carefully, I came to a Beatles tape and smiled at my choice, I loved them something me and Dean had in common.

I slipped the tape into the player before putting all of the others back. As the first song came on I leant back into the back of the seat, relaxing into the leather. Not knowing still where I sat with Dean yet I only began with humming along with each song that played.

Feeling full and somewhat satisfied I was able to drift off into a light sleep.

I don’t know when I awoke I saw Dean smiling through my half-shut eyelids. However, when my eyes caught his, his warming smile dropped from his face he spoke relatively softly when he said “You were singing in your sleep you know? Do you usually do that?”

A hot flush rose in my cheeks, surely turning my face a deep pink. “No. No one’s ever told me I even speak in my sleep. What was I singing?” I prayed that I wasn’t a squawking mess but I couldn’t give Dean the satisfaction or the opportunity to make fun of me, by asking a question like that.

“Hey Dude,” Dean answered simply.

“Oh,” I mumbled in response, feeling my face turn from pink to tomato red. Well, it looked like even my subconscious couldn’t keep its mouth shut. I was grateful that it had at least been my favourite Beatles song since I was young, long before being a fan of Supernatural. I had been told by my parents that I sang in the car when I was only a year and a half only managing the lyrics ‘Hey Jude’ as I hadn’t been talking for very long. There was no way I had muddled up any of the lyrics so I guess that was a plus.

My ‘Oh’ had Dean chuckling, great. I assumed that his reaction meant that he hadn’t made the connection of me knowing what the song meant to him. To be honest that made sense though as I had previously briefly mentioned to the brothers the start of the first episode and how they were introduced. Which would maybe cause dean to think I wouldn’t know anything about his mum, other than what the characters had spoken about, not taking into consideration the possibility of his mum coming back to life or the use of flashbacks. 

“Hey. Leave me alone, I’ll sing if I want to.” Like clockwork, a new song began playing which we simultaneously began singing to.

Smiles spread across each of our faces as we sang along to each song that played, both knowing every song on the playlist.

I was so carried away that I didn’t notice that Dean had pulled up at the publishers, only noticing when the music turned off with the turning of the key in the ignition.

“Were here” Dean explained as he pulled the key out. “So, you’ve seen how this goes? What did you have in mind? I don’t have an ID for you to use, not that anyone would believe you were FBI anyway.”

“I was thinking you work for a magazine that wants to promote the book series, she’ll be into that. For me, we could just say I’m here with you as an intern but it’s my first day so they haven’t got around to making me a pass yet, do you think that’s believable enough?”

It looked like he was thinking about it for a second, he looked me over before he answered me “Hmm should do.”

“Here..” he said as he picked up a pen from the car floor and put it behind my ear. “Take that notebook, of yours, in with you too”

We both stepped out of the car and walked around it to the boot, I grabbed my notebook while Dean searched for a corresponding ID and similar notebook to mine.

The receptionist of the publishers buzzed us in so that we could walk up to the desk that she sat at. “Hello, good afternoon. How can I help you?” she sat perkily up straight in her seat her eyes not even once glancing in my direction, Dean took up her whole attention. I had to give it to her he was a very pretty man but show a little restraint, wouldn’t you?

When it was me that spoke the woman visibly tore her eyes off of the man candy that stood before her. “We would like to speak to the person in charge of coordinating and managing the Supernatural series please.”

She didn’t even bother to ask who we were or why we were here ahead of her calling through to what I reckoned contacted another office inside this one, I guessed that was due to Dean’s presence. No sooner had the phone conversation started the call had ended and the woman was showing us to the head Supernatural publisher’s office. The receptionist slipped Dean a piece of paper, which I was sure had her number on and reluctantly left dean as the door opened revealing the woman I had seen on TV.

At the very least I knew I was in the right place with the right person.

“So, what can I do for you? My receptionist didn’t say when I spoke to her on the phone.” She looked over each of us individually as she asked her question, clearly sceptical of our intentions.

“Hello, were both with Allure magazine and were hoping to feature the Supernatural series in the upcoming edition,” I said putting on my best smile hoping to convince her.

“So, you published the ‘Supernatural’ books?” Dean asked it seemed that without Sam there he took on his train of thought too.

“Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books... You know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know – ‘Doctor Sexy, M.D.’?” The publisher said.

This was getting boring already so I attempted to cut some bits out by combining what they had said in the original episode. “Yes. Totally. We’re hoping to shine a light on an underappreciated series with our article, hopefully with the good press the series you will receive we hope you’ll be able to start publishing again. We both can't wait to see what happens to Dean after he goes to hell and all. Personally, I have a theory, my college here doesn’t agree with me do you though?”

Only just tuning back in Dean spoke a confused “No”.

“We are deadly serious about the series, we won’t be making any smart-ass articles making fun of the brothers. We are legit, we are massive fans.” I stated, I looked over the young, attractive woman. “You don’t look convinced.”

I thought for a minute, working out how to convince her without too much unnecessary work or effort. Turning to Dean I smiled before saying “Show here your tattoo”

All I got in response from Dean was a ‘huh’.

“Your anti-possession tattoo on your chest, like the one Sam and Dean have” With more reluctance than was needed Dean gripped the collar of his shirt in his fist and pulled it down revealing the tattoo.

“You don’t have one?” Quizzed the publisher, I thought that I might have been able to get away with it but I guess not. Here goes nothing, so much for trying to tone it down. I pulled up the hem of my t-shirt from the bottom. Along my ribs under my boobs was an anti-possession tattoo that featured a set of angel wings that spanned my whole width, across my front.

I felt the publisher’s eyes still on me as I turned my head to see Dean’s reaction, he smiled as he observed it. Okay. We’re okay.

I faced the publisher as I talked about my tattoo. “I just have this theory that Dean is going to be saved, from hell, by an angel. That’s what the wings are for. To raise him from perdition” God am I cheesy for quoting Cas. Oh well.

“Awesome. You know what?” the publisher like in the original episode decided to show her own tattoo. She turned around and hiked up her skirt to show me and Dean her tattoo.

“Wow. Great tattoo. As a fan, yourself you can see we are huge fans and we were really wondering whether we could interview Carver personally... Before you say it, I know he’s super private and that’s why he uses a pen name but we don’t want to expose his true identity just give the fans what they want, some insight into the magic behind the brothers' creator.”

She apparently bought onto it as she began scribbling the address on a pad of paper. “His name’s Chuck Shurley. And he’s a genius, so don’t piss him off” she said rambling away prior to ripping off the page with the address on it. 

Let’s go meet God.


End file.
